Free Hugs
by lilyvandersteen
Summary: What if Kurt and Blaine met in a train station, Blaine helping out Kurt after he'd bumped into someone and dropped all his belongings? Fluffy alternative Klaine meeting.
1. Chapter 1: Murphy's Law

**Author's Note: This is a one-shot awarded to brewers23 for writing the 400th review about my multichapter fic "Weave Your Magic". I hope you like it, sweetie :-)**

Free Hugs

Kurt wasn't much given to cursing, but now he did. At length. And loudly.

His class had run late, and as a consequence, he'd missed his bus to the train station, leaving him no other option than to walk there.

It was raining cats and dogs, and a violent gust of wind had ruined his umbrella. By the time he reached the train station, he was soaked through and his perfectly styled hair was reduced to a flat mess that made his bangs flop into his eyes annoyingly.

To top all that off, a taxi had just driven past him at full speed, hitting a puddle and splashing muddy water all over his new Marc Jacobs pants.

He shivered and hurried towards the station entrance, thinking longingly of coffee and maybe a bagel to go with it, as he'd had to skip lunch because he had a tutoring session with a freshman. His stomach rumbled in agreement with these thoughts, but he wouldn't have the time. His train was scheduled to leave in four minutes exactly, on platform twelve, so he had to run all the way through the station.

When he'd nearly reached the furthest platforms, gracefully weaving through the crowd, a hurried traveller going in the opposite direction bumped into him with such force that they both lost their balance and fell. Kurt's head hit the wall with a thud, and with a cry, he dropped his calfskin briefcase onto the floor. Apparently, he hadn't closed the clasp properly, because it opened all by itself and spilled its contents.

_Oh, great, now I'll certainly miss my train._

Before he could even start picking up his books and papers, people were already stomping all over them, and it was all he could do not to cry in frustration.

He scrambled around on his hands and knees retrieving his belongings and trying not to get stepped on in the process.

And then he saw someone else's hand pick up the last of his books and dust it off carefully before handing it to him.

He took the book with a quiet murmur of "Thank you" and put it back into his briefcase, closing the clasp carefully until it gave a satisfyingly loud click.

Then he looked at the man who had helped him. It wasn't the person who'd run into him. No. That one had yelled a few choice insults at him before running off again full tilt. The man crouching next to Kurt didn't seem to be in a hurry at all. He smiled at Kurt, got up smoothly and then held out his hand to help Kurt up as well.

Kurt smiled back tentatively and took the hand to get up.

"Thank you," he repeated. "Thank you so much."

"You're welcome," said the helpful stranger, smiling sunnily at him again.

He was slightly shorter than Kurt, and seemed about the same age. His dark hair fell in messy curls around his face, and his eyelashes could make any woman weep in envy. His eyes were a warm mixture of green and gold and brown, like a sun-dappled forest on a late August afternoon. His raincoat hung open, showing an outfit in a mix of bright colours that would have looked horribly mismatched on anybody else but strangely worked for him. And he was wearing a bow tie. A bow tie!

Their eyes met again, and Mr Helpful raised an eyebrow playfully, sporting an amused expression. Kurt realised he'd been blatantly checking the man out, and felt a blush creeping up his face.

"Well?" asked Mr Helpful. "Do I pass muster?"

He twirled around for good measure, and then winked at Kurt.

Kurt's blush intensified. He bit his lip, and then decided to go along with it. "Well, I like your shoes, though I would wear socks with them. And red is definitely your colour. Is that cardigan vintage? It looks like it's vintage."

Mr Helpful's smile broadened. "Yes, it is. There's this quirky little thrift shop a few streets from here where I love to browse from time to time, and sometimes, I find real treasures."

"I know exactly what shop you mean!" Kurt exclaimed excitedly. "I'm Kurt, by the way. Thanks for helping me out. I was in such a hurry and now I missed my train after all."

"My name's Blaine. I'm sorry you missed your train."

"Pleased to meet you, Blaine, even if it isn't under the best circumstances."

They shook hands.

"So …" Blaine trailed off uncertainly.

"Yes?" Kurt prodded.

"So you have some time to kill now?" Blaine asked. "When's your next train?"

"In about an hour and a half," answered Kurt. "Which is good, because I'm starving. I didn't have time for lunch. It hasn't been a very good day so far. I got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, and it's grown steadily worse from there. Murphy's law, I guess. That Murphy deserves a firm talking to."

"I know just what you mean," sighed Blaine. "My day wasn't exactly a picnic either. That's why I'm here."

Blaine dug into his backpack and produced a big cardboard sign. He unfolded it and showed it to Kurt with a triumphant "Ta-da!"

The sign said "FREE HUGS" in big messy block letters.

"Free hugs?" asked Kurt, puzzled.

"When I've had a bad day, I come here to the station, I stand at the entrance and I offer free hugs to everyone who comes in or goes out. It's free cuddle therapy, and it makes me feel a million times better. You should join me and try it!"

Kurt laughed. "People actually come up to you and hug you?"

Blaine nodded enthusiastically. "They do. They come right at me and hug me as if I were a long-lost relative. It's the best feeling in the world!"

Kurt pursed his lips consideringly. "Can I eat something first? I'm really hungry."

Blaine grinned widely and nodded, bouncing on his heels in excitement.

They went to the Subway sandwich store in the station, and Kurt bought them both a cup of coffee - "Consider this a thank-you for helping me out" - and himself a turkey breast sandwich, which he devoured in mere minutes, without paying any attention to table manners or to his companion.

"Wow," grinned Blaine. "You really were hungry."

Kurt flushed and nodded sheepishly.

"Hey, that's okay," Blaine reassured him.

They drank their coffee in slow, measured sips, as they talked about the less than stellar day they'd had, and then discussed the latest issue of Vogue.

When they'd finished every last drop, Blaine jumped up. "Shall we?"

Kurt let out a small sigh and got up. "Lead the way."

They stood in the entrance to the train station, the cardboard sign in between them, and inviting smiles on their faces. And sure enough, people did come for a hug.

Lots of them were teenage girls who giggled before, during and after, batting their eyelashes at Kurt and Blaine.

There were elderly people as well, who hugged Kurt fiercely and sent him a blazing smile afterwards that tugged at his heartstrings.

There were little children who came bouncing up excitedly, tugging at their parents' sleeves: "Can I? Can I, please?" When Kurt crouched to wrap them into a hug, they hurtled into his arms and hugged him tightly.

But some huggers were people Kurt would never have expected to want a hug. He hugged a tall man with spiky black hair, tattoos and piercings, who looked like a crossing between a vampire and a rock star, and winked at him before he sauntered off.

He also hugged a man who looked like a super model, with piercing green eyes and a confident smirk. He felt him slide a business card into his back trouser pocket. "Call me if you want to do more than just hug me, killer!"

And he hugged harried-looking business men and women, whom he would have expected to completely ignore him and Blaine and hurry through the doors, yet they stopped, and really hugged him, sagging against him in relief, the tension seeping out of them instantly. Brief as the hugs were, they continued on their way looking much happier.

He could feel his mood lighten with every hug he gave and received. Blaine was definitely onto something. Hugging was magic.

_I am so doing this again!_

After a long while, when the crowd had dwindled to a trickle, Blaine whispered to him: "Don't you have a train to catch?"

Kurt checked his watch, and Blaine was right. He had to hurry if he wanted to make it to the platform on time. The question was: did he want to?

"I changed my mind," Kurt whispered back. "I'm not going home today. I'll send my dad a text to expect me tomorrow."

He grabbed his phone and started composing a text.

He could feel Blaine watching him intently, so he looked up. "What's the matter?"

"So what are your plans for tonight?" Blaine asked, looking curious and hopeful at the same time.

"I don't know yet," admitted Kurt, "but … I hope they include you."

Blaine beamed, and then carefully folded the cardboard sign in half again to tuck it into his backpack. "Whatever you want to do, I'm all yours."

Kurt gave him a happy grin and then opened his arms wide. "Well, you could start by giving me a hug."


	2. Chapter 2: A Chance Encounter

**Author's Note: A new chapter for you, and especially for leahmo34, my 600th reviewer. Enjoy, sweetie!**

Chapter 2: A Chance Encounter

Blaine gave a half-hearted wave to his parents just before the elevator doors closed. The only reaction he got was a raised eyebrow from his mother. His father was staring straight ahead, looking right through Blaine, a displeased expression on his face.

When the doors closed with a soft hiss and took his parents away from him after five increasingly frustrating and awkward days, Blaine let out a sigh that seemed to come all the way down from his toes, closed the door, locked it for good measure and sagged down against it.

When he'd told David that his parents were staying at his place for five days this week because they had business in New York, David patted him on the back and enthused: "That's great, man! Saves you the money for a plane ticket to go see them in Ohio!"

Blaine didn't have the heart to tell David that the thought of his parents coming to visit him filled him with dread and that he would be counting the days until they left again. Who felt that way about his own parents?

Blaine supposed they did love him, deep down. They'd never been demonstrative, even when he was little. His earliest memory was of him excitedly running towards his mother when she and his father came home after a week-long business trip and his mother recoiling in horror and shrieking at the nanny to catch the child before he got to her and touched her vintage Chanel suit with sticky grubby fingers.

Nanny Kate had caught up with Blaine just before he reached his mother and had scooped him up into her arms, gently chiding him. "Don't touch your mother, munchkin, she doesn't like that."

Blaine had wriggled in her arms, reaching out to his mother and whining: "I want mommy!"

He'd quickly been silenced, however, by the exasperated and slightly nauseated face his mother pulled at the thought of having to deal with her child. "Take him away, will you, Nanny? He can come say good night to us right before he goes to bed. We'll be in the drawing room."

His mother had turned on her heel without sparing him another glance, leaving his nanny to deal with an upset child that cried as though his heart was broken.

When he'd gone into the drawing room that night, freshly washed, he'd tried hugging his mother again, but she drew away from him, patting him lightly on the head and wishing him good night.

His heart sank, and when he went upstairs with Nanny Kate, he asked her: "Doesn't mommy love me? What did I do wrong?"

His nanny sighed. "I'm sure your mother loves you, munchkin, she's just not the hugging kind. And you did nothing wrong. You're the sweetest little boy in the world, and I'll give you as many hugs as you want to prove it."

That made him smile again, and climb onto her lap eagerly, trying to wheedle an extra bedtime song out of her.

He loved his nanny, and was devastated when she left as soon as he turned twelve.

"You're old enough to do without a nanny now," announced his father. "When we're on a business trip, Cooper can check in on you during the weekends, and during the week, you can fend for yourself. We'll leave money for you to order in food."

That meant he was home alone quite often, and yes, he could take care of himself quite well, but he was lonely. All the more so because he was bullied at school, for being small and studious and shy. But then he guessed it might be worse. If his bullies found out that he preferred boys to girls, they might get downright violent.

And then there was a Sadie Hawkins dance at school, and of course, none of the girls asked him. So he asked Mitch, a boy he was sort of friends with, if they could go together. Just as friends. His bullies had missed that memo, though, and found the two of them waiting for their ride home in the parking lot. Not content with jeering at them, they broke into the locker room and came back armed with baseball bats. When he saw them approach, Mitch ran off before they could get their hands on him. Blaine, though, stood rooted to the spot, too terrified to move, and they beat him up thoroughly and left him for dead.

He was in a coma for two weeks, and neither his brother nor his parents were there when he woke up. His nurse told him that his brother had visited twice, but his parents, when they had been contacted, had told the hospital personnel very firmly that they were on an important business trip in Japan that they could not cut short.

By the time they came back, Blaine had been discharged from the hospital. His father accompanied him to the police office so that Blaine could give his deposition to the police. While Blaine stumbled through his story, his father sat there stony-faced.

When they stepped out of the office, the only remark his father made, was: "We're transferring you to Dalton Academy."

He'd spent the rest of his high school years at Dalton, where he was happier than he had ever been before. He boarded there, not only during the week but weekends and holidays too, and he loved it. His roommate David became a very dear friend, as well as David's bestie Wes and the mischievous but lovable duo Nick and Jeff.

And now he'd come to New York, to study at Columbia University. His parents had been disappointed that Blaine hadn't gotten into Harvard, like his father and brother. He wisely refrained from mentioning that he hadn't applied for Harvard, because he really wanted to go to New York, his dream city.

His parents had an apartment in Manhattan, at the Marlowe, and allowed him to live there while studying at Columbia. That was certainly a very agreeable alternative to living in a dorm or in a shoebox apartment with several roommates, but it had come with a price.

When he'd announced to his parents that he wanted to become a teacher, they'd looked at him as though he'd just grown two extra heads.

"We're not paying an enormous amount of money for you to become a … teacher," his father spat, pronouncing the last word as though it was incredibly offending. "You'll go to Columbia business school or study medicine or law, as befits an Anderson. I suppose engineering or architecture would do as well. But not teaching. If you want to become a teacher, you can do it on your own dime, at a crappy community college."

Blaine had recoiled slightly from the venom in his father's voice. His parents' disapproval of his career choice felt like a slap in the face. However, he reckoned he could study what his parents wanted him to first, find a job and work a few years, saving as much money as he could, and then go back to school to become a teacher. On his own dime, yes. He could do it.

Blaine chose mechanical engineering as his major, and to his delight, he found that he could take on two liberal arts minors. He chose music and dance, hoping to find friends in these classes that would grow as dear to him as his fellow Warblers.

Though his chosen major was not his first choice, Blaine found the course material absorbing and fascinating. It helped that the mechanical engineering department was a relatively small one, allowing for close student-faculty interaction, and that the professors were, without exception, passionate about their subject, a passion they managed to pass on to their students.

The minors he'd declared proved right up his alley as well, so Blaine's university experience had been challenging but stimulating so far.

This had been his parents' first visit to New York since Blaine had come here to study. He hadn't seen them for a long while, which suited him perfectly.

They had arrived on Sunday evening, complaining about the delay their flight had had, the insolent cab driver and the weather. Blaine had prepared dinner for them, but when he told them so and suggested they sit at the dining room table and eat, his father looked at him in disgust. "Could you be any more of a fag if you tried? Men don't cook. Leave that mess on the stove. We're going out for dinner."

During dinner, his father grilled Blaine about everything under the sun, quelling him with a look when he waxed lyrical about a medical robot they'd been learning about that week, and outright scoffing when Blaine told his parents the story of Robert Downey Jr. recently presenting an "Iron Man"-style robotic arm to a little boy who was missing his right arm.

Blaine's parents weren't at the apartment much during the next five days, but when they were, they managed to crawl under Blaine's skin and make him squirm. His father pronounced everything, from his wardrobe and his music preferences over his jogging habits and his favourite breakfast cereal to his choice of laptop and phone "too faggy for words". His mother scarcely said ten words, merely lifting an eyebrow whenever Blaine did something she disapproved of, which happened frequently.

When they finally left on Friday afternoon, he felt about two feet small and was in dire need of a pick-me-up, so he looked for his "Free Hugs" sign, stuffed it into his backpack and left for the train station.

It was raining hard, and he shivered, wishing he'd put on a slightly warmer coat and jogging a little faster. Before long, he arrived at the back entrance of the station, and anticipation made his face light up.

As he made his way through the station, keeping out of the way of hurrying travellers, he saw two of them collide and fall. The bigger one was unscathed and got up quickly, but fired off a stream of expletives at the man he'd run into before storming off again. The slighter one hit his head against the wall. His briefcase fell from his hand and sprung open. Blaine saw several books and lots of papers fall out.

All the while, people kept hurrying past the fallen man without paying him any attention and without side-stepping the books and papers.

The man got on his hands and knees - and wow, wasn't that a sight to see with the criminally tight pants he wore - and retrieved his belongings one piece at a time.

Blaine realised his mouth hung open and closed it with a snap.

_Get a grip, Anderson. Make yourself useful and go help the man instead of checking him out from a distance._

Blaine crouched near Mr Tight Pants and picked up one of the books that had fallen to the floor. He wiped the dirt off of it and handed it to its owner, who thanked him quietly and closed his briefcase.

Then Mr Tight Pants looked up, and wow, was he stunning! He had eyes the colour of a stormy sea, and his face looked as though it belonged on the pages of a magazine.

Blaine smiled at him winningly, turning up the Anderson charm a few notches. He got up and offered his hand to help the other man up.

Mr Tight Pants smiled back hesitantly, and took his hand. Once he was upright again, his eyes roved over Blaine appraisingly.

Blaine let him look to his heart's content, doing some subtle checking out of his own, and then raised an eyebrow at him when their eyes met again, smirking slightly. "Well, do I pass muster?"

Blaine twirled around to give Mr Tight Pants the 360° view, and his smirk grew when he saw the stunning stranger blush. He winked at him, and the blush deepened.

Mr Tight Pants took his question seriously, and critiqued Blaine's appearance, which led to a discussion of Blaine's favourite thrift shop, and then to an exchange of names.

_Kurt. The name suits him. Yes. Glad we're on first name basis already._

Kurt lamented the fact that he'd missed his train and that he'd had an awful day, and Blaine hesitated only a second before asking Kurt to join him and give out free hugs, figuring that Kurt could do with some cuddle therapy as well.

Kurt agreed to try it, on condition he could get something to eat first. Blaine readily agreed.

Kurt bought a sandwich for himself and coffee for the both of them, and they sat down at a table, Blaine feeling very comfortable around Kurt already. Apparently, the feeling was mutual, since Kurt attacked his sandwich without a care about eating neatly or keeping the conversation going.

Blaine didn't mind, content to silently sip his coffee and gaze at Kurt some more.

When Kurt finished eating, they talked for a while, drinking their coffee and exchanging shy looks and smiles every now and then.

They threw away their empty coffee cups and headed to the station's front entrance. Blaine unfolded the "Free Hugs" sign and held one side of it, while Kurt held the other side.

"Smile!" instructed Blaine, and Kurt obediently followed Blaine's order, his eyes crinkling.

Soon, Blaine was soaring on a high from all the hugs he'd gotten, and the way Kurt was beaming, he must have felt the same way.

Blaine noticed that, though some people gave both of them a hug, others showed a clear preference for either him or Kurt. Blaine got a lot more girls of all ages, while Kurt got several good-looking guys who didn't even spare Blaine a glance. He saw one of them slip Kurt his contact info, and felt a hot stab of jealousy.

The time flew by, and Blaine remembered that Kurt had a train to catch, so he took Kurt by the arm to get his attention and reminded him to leave for the platform on time.

Kurt checked the time and grimaced, but made no move to hurry away. Instead, he gave Blaine a long look, and told him he'd changed his mind and wouldn't be going home that night. He fiddled with his phone, sending a message to his dad.

_Wait… Is this because of me? Does he… Can we…_

Blaine's heart started to beat faster. He was all for Kurt staying in New York and right by his side. He wasn't ready to part with him just yet.

Kurt probably felt Blaine's gaze on him, and looked up. "What's the matter?"

_Okay, man up, Anderson! Ask him out!_

"So what are your plans for tonight?" Blaine asked.

_That's neutral enough, isn't it? Not presuming he's staying for me, but leaving the option open._

Kurt blushed a little, and admitted he had no firm plans as yet, but was hoping that Blaine would stick around.

_Well… You don't need to ask me twice!_

Blaine's smile could probably have lit up the entire station, and he promised Kurt he was all his, whatever Kurt had in mind.

Kurt grinned and held his arms open in invitation. "Well, you could start by giving me a hug."


End file.
